Caterpillars and Butterflies
by cazflibs
Summary: As our Rimmer blasts off to become Ace, he runs into the worst possible race in the universe for his first mission. A fic-gift for the lovely Psychobikerjunkiewhore
1. First Day

**In response to my first Ace fic _Only the One_, I had a request to write a fic detailing our Rimmer's first adventure as Ace. **

**A fic-gift for Psychobikerjunkiewhore (she's much nicer than her name intimates, dear readers), and she's the only one that needs to like it. (Plus, I only knocked this up in an hour and a half, so go easy). My dear, I am a woman of my word. ^__^ Enjoy.  
**

"What does that button do?"

_"That's for the auxilliary power."_

"And what does that one do?"

_"That's for the coolant system."_

"And how about this one?"

_"Leave it alone, Arn! Don't touch it!"_

"Sorry."

The computer sighed with the breath she didn't have. This was going to be a tough one to crack.

Mind you, she'd trained worse. The Ace that had just died had been terrible at first. He'd been the pure definition of a coward, to the point that he would have made Mr Bean look like a tough cookie. Yet with her guidance and encouragement, he'd come far. He'd not lasted overly long though - a mere eighteen months - but he'd achieved things that she'd never thought possible. He'd even managed to secure the precious Jadestone from the simulant's dangerous clutches. The Jadestone was the stuff of legend. It was told that it had existed long before humankind, and had the power to bring light to the universe or to wield great destruction. The simulants had planned to use it to power their latest invention - a laser canon capable of destroying whole civilisations in one single blast. The perfect toy for a race built to kill.

Just before he'd rescued the Princess Bonjella, the last Ace had mounted a daring mission to snatch the Jadestone from the simulant ship _SS Orion_ in Dimension 1579. When he'd realised that he was fatally wounded, he'd told the computer that he would have to hide the Jadestone where he'd hoped the simulants would never find it - on a tiny, green, inconspicuous little ship in Dimension 23101986K - reality's equivilant of the arse end of nowhere.

And it was in this final, fatal trip, that Ace had died and recruited his replacement. The butterfly was gone, replaced with the caterpillar once more.

"So what does Ace do all day?" Rimmer scoffed. "Does he swan around various dimensions, filing his nails and trying to find the best place to get his highlights done?" He blew the annoying dangly fringe out of his eyes. "Computer, do I really have to wear this stupid, floppy excuse for a doormat?"

_"No!" _the computer cried. _"I mean, yes! I mean - " _she clicked her modem and did her best to keep calm and collected. _"_No_, he doesn't just swan around and get his highlights done, and _yes_, you do have to wear the wig, OK?"_

"Fine, fine," he soothed. If they were going to spend the next few years together - and he certainly hoped it would be years and not minutes as the job description intimated it could be - he needed to try and keep his snidiness in check. "I'm sorry, I'm listening, really I am. What do you want me to do?"

The dashboard sparkled as red and white lights rippled across the surface. "_Well, I think the first thing you need to do, Arnold, is hang on tight,_" the computer replied silkily. "_The first time you dimension jump it can be a bit of a rough ride_."

Rimmer rolled his eyes. "I've been in a ship when Lister's been drunk at the helm," he said haughtily, blowing the fringe out his eyes once more - a habit that was beginning to grate on the computer. "I'm sure I'll be fine."

If the computer had a face, it would be sporting a rather evil grin. She programmed in the roughest jaunt she could think of - the leap to Dimension 357, the home of Galactic Bazaar. "_Prepare to jump,_" she announced coolly.

Then Rimmer's world turned inside out. His whole body was wrenched back into the cushioning of the seat from the G-force of the jump, the edges of his vision flashing red and black. It was an incredibly unsettling experience; seeing the entire universe, everything that there has ever been and ever will be, dance teasingly in his peripheral vision and whipping away into nothingness, as _Wildfire _wrenched him away from everything he'd ever known.

The ship juddered to a halt just as suddenly as it had blasted free of his home dimension. As Rimmer's pulsing, blurry vision slowly returned to normality, he clamped his lips together as a horribly familiar lurch came from his stomach.

"I think I feel a Jackson Pollock coming on," he mumbled, looking decidedly green.

A small, red warning light flashed urgently up at him from the dashboard, accompanied by a persistent bleeping. Rimmer blinked. "Erm, computer. What does that flashing light mean? Flashing red lights are never good news, are they?"

"_Something's not right_," the computer mused. "_Something wrenched us out from our dimension jump as we passed through a certain reality_." She ran through some cross-checks of her own, hoping that she hadn't screwed up in front of the new boy. But no, everything in her calculations had been binary perfect. For some reason, they'd been forced to stop in Dimension 1579.

Rimmer glanced around the cockpit, his vision still retaining a red tinge. "Computer, forgive me if I'm being thicker than the offspring of a supermodel and a 21st Century banker, but wouldn't you say we were caught in some kind of ship's guidance beam?" He shuffled around in his seat to locate the beam's source. A dark black ship hung silently against the distant stars, growing larger and larger as they were pulled in. "_SS Orion_? What's their beef?"

_Oh smeg. _

The computer panicked, attempting to straighten out her programming into some form of logical plan. She never usually let her new recruits within ten dimensions of simulants in their first six months for fear that they'd be squished like the caterpillars they were before they'd had their training.

"_Arnold, listen to me. Did Ace tell you where he hid it?_"

Rimmer shook his head, confused. "What? Hid what?"

The computer sighed in some degree of relief. "_Good, it's best that you don't know right now, Arn. Trust me, it's for the best._"

Rimmer's brow furrowed. "Computer, what the hell are you talking about?"

The computer's voice dropped so that it barely registered through the speakers. "_SS Orion, the ship that's bringing us on board. They're simulants, Arn_."

At the very word, Rimmer's body began to shake. "W-what?"

"_They're not going to go easy on you, Arn, I'm so sorry. But you need to be strong, OK? You need to remember that you're Ace now_."

Rimmer's jaw slowly dropped as he shook his head loosely. "No, no - don't call me that. I don't want to do this anymore. You - you can take me back now," he whimpered.

"_I'm so sorry, Arn. But please don't say anything about where you've come from. Please. Just keep remembering why you're doing this, whatever they do, OK?_"

In the last few minutes of freedom he had as _Wildfire _was pulled, juddering into one of the landing bays, Rimmer closed his eyes, gripping the handles of his seat until his knuckles turned white.

"For them," he told himself shakily.


	2. Torture

The cold, metallic surface burnt his bare skin as he lay shivering on the table. He'd never felt so frightened or humiliated in all his life. Well, save for that time when he was fifteen, and Porky Roebuck and the other Space Scouts had decided to strip him, marinade him and set him up on the open spit roast. Yeah _that _hadn't been pleasant. But at least Yakka Takka Tulla had been there to save him. Nobody was coming for him now.

As soon as _Wildfire _touched down in the landing bay, Rimmer had stepped out to face a row of gun barrels all trained on him, imperceptibly following his every move. He had his very own simulant welcome party. He'd kept his mouth clamped shut as he did his best to reduce his hyperventilating to a pant, his shoulders and chest heaving with quick, shallow breaths that he didn't require.

"G-gentlemen," his voicebox quivered as he strained to replicate Ace's voice, as well as keeping his fear in check. "Can I help you?"

He was met with a flurry of clicks as the guns trained on him simultaneously loaded.

"Right."

Rimmer may have been new to this space hero lark, but even he could work out that this situation was far from rosy. A series of clues had given it away. The way that the simulants had frog-marched him silently to a cold, white lab room. The way they'd stripped him down to his black boxers (thank goodness Ace's light bee remote had exchanged them in place of his usual white Y-fronts). Although to be fair, it was an act in his books that usually either pre-empted great joy (Yvonne McGruder, Nirvanah Crane) or great disaster (horrific, unspeakable Self-Loathing Beast of doom). By the time that the simulants had shackled him down to the table by his wrists and ankles and began fixing wired pads to various parts of his bare skin, he was fairly convinced that this was Not Good.

As one of the simulants stuck a wired pad to his left temple, he finally found his voice.

"Erm, excuse me, b-but what exactly are these for?" he asked, not entirely convinced that he wanted to know the answer.

The simulant didn't reply, instead grinning slowly to reveal a row of sharp, jagged metal teeth. It was a smile that even a mother would run away screaming from. Rimmer's panic rose as he struggled against the metal restraints that rucked and pinched his bare skin. Definitely Not Good.

A second simulant, this one seven-foot tall and bathed in a cloak as black as infinite space, loomed over him. He seized Rimmer by the throat with a thick, hefty metallic hand, wrenching his head to one side so that he was forced to face him. Rimmer quivered as he stared transfixed by the simulant's eyes - one milky grey like a human's, the other a piercing red light, most likely replaced after some sort of injury.

The simulant allowed a satisfied smirk to surface on his features. "Do you know how delicious it is to watch you squirm, Ace Rimmer?" The edges of his voice were distorted with electronic feedback, as was common amongst simulants.

Rimmer swallowed with difficulty thanks to the clamping effect of the simulant's hand. "Very?" he choked.

The simulant shook his head. "Your arrogance astounds me," he growled. He leant forward threateningly so that he was millimetres from Rimmer's nose. "Do you even remember my name?"

Bugger.

Rimmer's mouth hung open as his eyes widened, wandering around the room to hopefully find a clue. "Erm -"

The simulant snarled, releasing his neck. Unfortunately, Rimmer's relief was short-lived when the horrifically tight crush was transferred to his crown jewels.

"Pizzak'Rapp," he said pointedly.

Pizzak released his deathgrip. A hiss escaped between Rimmer's gritted teeth that morphed into a silent swear word. His balls politely informed his brain that _that _was a name to remember.

Pizzak stood back and glared at him. "Cut the heroic bullshit, Ace Rimmer. I don't want you wasting my precious time." He folded his arms. "Now where is it?"

Rimmer's face fell as his jaw jabbered open and closed in fear. He shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said quietly.

Pizzak's position remained stock still; he'd most likely expected and secretly hoped for this opportunity. He nodded at the other simulant meaningfully.

The machine by his head lit up, expelling a high-pitched whine. At that point, Rimmer's worst suspicions as to the function of the wired pads were painfully confirmed. The pads strapped to his legs, arms, torso and head all burst into life, emitting a blast of electricity that thundered through every inch of Rimmer's body. His back arched uncontrollably as he wrenched desperately at his restraints; a primal cry, in his own voice rather than Ace's, dragged from his ragged throat.

Just as quickly, the electricity retreated, leaving Rimmer gasping for breath. His bare chest rose and fell rapidly as his fingers twitched, the blue sparks still echoing across his body.

Pizzak exhaled forcefully. "The Jadestone is very precious to us, Mr Rimmer," he reiterated. "You stole it from us and we want it back." His voice grew darker, the electronic edge crackling even more strongly. "I'll ask you again. Where is it?"

Rimmer closed his eyes in despair. He had a horrible feeling that the electronic torture he'd just been subjected to was destined to have a repeat performance. He shook his head fearfully. "Please, you've got to believe me," he pleaded weakly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Unfortunately this didn't seem to be the answer that Pizzak was after. He nodded again to the simulant behind his head. The high-pitched whine by his ear signalled the inevitable as a stronger, more persistant wave of electricity rocketed through him. Every muscle in his body seemed to tense, locking him in a horrific blast of agony. Rimmer had the distant awareness of his strained voice once more; his cry punctuated with sobs of pain.

As the electricity wrenched out of his body, Rimmer was still left panting and sobbing. With his eyes screwed closed, he heard Pizzak's boots walk around the table and stop beside his head.

A voice tickled his ear. "All you need to do is talk, Ace Rimmer, and this will all be over."

Rimmer shook his head loosely. It was all he could seem to do. His vocal chords didn't seem to operate beyond crying out in agony.

Taking this as a gesture of defiance, Pizzak motioned to the simulant once more. Despite the crackling, stabbing pain that thrashed through his body as his back arched uncontrollably, Rimmer dug his nails into his palm and bit his lip hard. He wasn't going to give this _bastard_ the satisfaction of hearing him scream. From tightly squeezed eyes that twitched helplessly from the electricity racking his mind, a small, silent tear blended with the rivulets of sweat that ran down his temples.

Pizzak rolled his eyes. "We can do this all night if we need to, Ace Rimmer," he sighed, interlocking his fingers and extending his arms so that they cracked with satisfaction. "But I'm not sure you can."

But he could. And did.


	3. Rebirth

The cell in which they were holding him prisoner wasn't the most comfortable of places, Rimmer had to admit. But in comparison to the ten hours he'd spent on the torture table it was the equivilant of the penthouse suite at the Ritz.

The chains rattled gently as he shifted his weight betwen his aching feet. The simulants had chained his arms above his head so that his feet couldn't quite lie flat on the ground; an ancient practice deliberately awkward enough to prevent comfort or sleep in its unlucky 'guests'.

"_Arn, can you hear me?_"

The computer had loaded her program directly into his light bee, and her words seemed to resonate silently in his mind as she spoke.

"_Arn, talk to me, please. Just let me know that you're alright._"

Water dripped from a leaky pipe on the wall beside him, dropping in an echoey splash. He blinked slowly.

"_Arn -_"

"Why didn't he tell me?" he said evenly.

The computer sighed to herself sadly. It was a question she knew to be inevitable. "_Please, try to understand - _"

Rimmer wrenched at his shackles causing the chains to clatter together with a sound like shattering glass. "Why didn't he tell me?!" he cried, his voice seething with anger and frustration.

"S_hhh._" The computer soothed him like a mother hen."_You don't want to attract any unwanted attention._"

A sad, hollow laugh tumbled from his lips. "You think that they could do _worse _than what they've already done to me?" his voice cracked, blinking away a lens of tears.

There was a silence before the computer spoke. "_If he'd have told you about the Jadestone and what the simulants would have done to you if they found you, would you still have left to become Ace?_"

Rimmer didn't reply. Instead he expelled his anger in a deep sigh as he let his weight hang against his shackled wrists.

The computer echoed the sad sigh. "_I'm sorry that you had to go through those terrible things, Arnold, I really am. But it was too dangerous a secret for you to keep. Even your predecessor was going to wipe his memory after he'd hidden it, but he died before he could get the chance._"

Rimmer's face slowly dropped in realisation. "Oh my god." He swallowed. "It's on _Starbug_, isn't it?" A knot plummeted to the pit of his stomach. Becoming Ace was now a one-way trip. If he ever went back, he ran the risk of leading the simulants straight to the others.

Rimmer's face hardened. "So you didn't trust me to keep that secret to myself under torture?" he asked flatly. "Did you think that I would fold, just like that?"

Guilt wracked the computer's modem. "_Arnold, you've only just begun your journey. The Jadestone is important - "_

"What, and the others aren't?" Rimmer snapped back, before realising quite what he'd allowed to slip out. Swallowing hard, he took in his grim surroundings, feeling a small shiver dance up and down his spine. "It hardly matters now, does it?" he continued sadly. "I guess I've died twice already now, third time's the charm, right?" Sod's law that once he'd been blessed with the chance to live again thanks to the timeslides created by the mutated developing fluid, he'd manage to kill himself again within four minutes.

Rimmer shook his head loosely, the chains tinkling quietly. "Computer, you might as well take _Wildfire _and recruit another Ace. One that doesn't suck more than a Dyson 4000."

The computer clicked her circuitry nonchalantly. "_A question for you then, Arnold. If you are not a true Ace Rimmer, then how come, despite the torture they subjected you to, you didn't tell the simulants anything?_"

Rimmer rolled his eyes. "I thought we'd just re-iterated the fact that I knew smeg all about the Jadestone and it's whereabouts?" he replied sarcastically. "Thanks for pouring salt into the wound."

"_I understand that_," the computer said patiently. "_But Pizzak explained that all you needed to do was talk and then the torture would stop. Yet you were in there for almost ten hours._" She paused for good effect. She'd trained hundreds of Aces, and knew all to well that the average Rimmer responded best to dramatic pauses of 4.84 seconds long. "_Why didn't you simply give him some false information so that he would stop?_"

Rimmer blinked in genuine surprise. It hadn't even crossed his mind. However, he wasn't to be swayed. "Computer, if you think you know how to push my buttons you can stop it now. You're not going to convince me otherwise."

"_It's because you're a stubborn git, Arnold Rimmer, and you know it_," the computer chided. One thousand, three hundred and forty-two Rimmer's she'd nurtured, and they were all the bloody same. "_The process of becoming Ace is a lot simpler than you think. It's a fact of accepting that all of the aspects of yourself that you once thought held you back can be changed into aspects that will make you stronger. Stubborness becomes determination. Arrogance becomes confidence. Self-loathing becomes humilty_."

Rimmer's eyes dropped to the floor silently. The computer could almost hear the cogs turning, but she chose the gracious path of pretending not to acknowledge it.

"_I'm assuming that you're being your usual stubborn self, so I'll continue without you_," she added. "_I take it that you remember the time that you were attacked by your future selves?_"

Rimmer kept his gaze steadfastly on the oil-slicked floor but his mind's eye wandered down memory lane. The others were lying dead around him, the cockpit was filling with smoke, and the screens reeled with information that politely informed him that he probably had about sixty seconds before the hold would go and that _Starbug _would be blown to smithereens. Inspired by Kryten's final words, he'd grabbed a bazookoid and spent the last precious seconds he had blasting the Time Drive, and their doomed timeline, out of existence.

"_You saved them all but still think nothing of it. Yet one version of yourself chose not to do it. He took the Time Drive and ran, spent his whole life hiding from his potential._" The computer clicked her modem patiently. "_But I would say that your predecessor still made a damn good Ace. Wouldn't you agree, Arnold?_"

The hum of the ship's engines echoed in the silence between them, punctuated by the incessant dripping of the leaky pipe on the wall. Even the jangling of the chains was now still and quiet. Eventually the silence was broken with words that would signal a whole new chapter in Rimmer's existence.

"Show me how."

The computer smiled to herself. The caterpillar was ready.

"_The benefit of being a hologram_," she mused, "_is that restraints don't always have to hold you back_."

Rimmer cast his eyes up to his shackled wrists. "But computer, I'm hard-light. I can't revert back to soft-light without extacting my own light bee."

"_Well go on then,_" the computer clucked. "_What are you waiting for?_"

Rimmer rolled his eyes and tugged against his shackles, the chains rattling and jingling in explanation. "Computer, I can't reach my smegging light bee with my hands up here, can I?"

"_Have you been listening to me for the past five minutes?,_" the computer sighed, "_Take what holds you back and turn it into something that will help you. If the mountain won't come to Mohammed?_"

A small grin tugged at the side of Rimmer's mouth. Then Mohammed must go to the mountain.

Casting his eyes up to his shackles once more, he pulled himself up onto his toes so that the chains slacked, spun his wrists so that the loose chains wrapped around them, and grabbed onto the now taught links.

"_Now you're cooking with gas._"

Pushing himself up from off the ground as hard as he could, Rimmer pulled his knees upwards, desperately trying to bring his light bee within grabbing distance of his fingers. His whole body shook with effort before his arms cried mutiny and his boots dropped down to the floor once more.

"Smegging hell, this is hard," Rimmer panted.

"_And where exactly on the job description did you read that becoming a space hero was a walk in the park?_" the computer shot back. "_Try again_."

Riled yet inspired, Rimmer tried a different approach. Swinging his legs back and forth to gain momentum, Rimmer waited until his legs were at the apex of their arc, and grunting, hauled his legs above his head and wrapped his ankles quickly around the chains to secure his position upside down. His entire body shook as groans of effort hissed through gritted teeth, hologrammatic sweat beading on his forehead. He knew that he would have to tap the buttons on his light bee quickly - once to soft-light to free himself from the shackles, and another time to revert back to hard-light to prevent his precious light bee shattering on the metal floor.

With a strained yell and nothing to lose, he went for it. A pair of _thwips_ sounded as his image flickered, and he fell to the floor with a heavy thud, landing on his back, arms and legs still sprawled out in shock.

The computer beamed. The caterpillar was gone. The butterfly had emerged.

Rimmer eye's widened, panting where he still lay. "I did it!" he cried.

"_Not quite, Ace. You haven't quite worked out a way out yet._"

He gazed upwards, following the path of the chains that were fastened to the ceiling. Beside it was a metal grate, most likely an opening to an air vent. Rimmer allowed a smile to surface on his weary face. She'd called him Ace.

"On the contrary," he replied, his vocal chords slowly replicating the voice he'd once hated. "I think I've just found one."


	4. Escape

The metal grate on the corridor's ceiling dropped suddenly and clattered to the ground, the noise rattling across the walls before dying away into a distant echo. A disembodied pair of ungainly long legs dangled precariously from the ceiling, the black, buffed boots kicking out in a fruitless attempt to locate a foothold. A muffled voice echoed from the dark depths of the air vent.

"Computer, I'm slipping! I think I'm going to - "

Rimmer's fingers squeaked as they slid helplessly across the cold steel of the air ducts, and with a strangled yell he dropped, falling bodily onto the metal-grated floor.

"_And what a dismount, folks! The gymnastics gold medal goes to..._"

Rimmer groaned audibly from his crumpled position on the deck. "Yes alright computer, no need to score below the belt."

The computer smirked. "_Ace, you have the delicate, graceful landing of a sack of potatoes. You're going to need to learn to move around as silently as possible if you don't wish to attract the attention of everyone within a three mile radius_."

Rimmer hauled himself to his feet and dusted himself down haughtily with a poorly hidden scowl. It wasn't until he heard the computer's giggling echoing through his mind that he noticed that his wig had been wrenched to one side in the fall. The entire left hand side of his face was hidden under the golden bangs, whilst the right hand side exposed the dark brown curls of his short sideburns. He righted it quickly.

"Which way now then?" he hissed, glancing up and down the dark, foreboding corridor. The lighting flickered incessently, casting his dancing silhouette onto the oil-streaking walls.

The computer clicked her modem. "_I would suggest that you head south. Landing bays on simulant craft tend to be located at the stern so that's most likely where they are holding Wildfire._"

Rimmer straightened. "Well let's not stand around chit-chatting, computer," he replied in his best 'Ace' voice. "Let's get out of this hell-hole and into the big black." Flicking his hair heroically from his eyes, he strode off purposefully down the corridor.

"_The other way, big guy_."

Rimmer swivelled in a tight 180 degree turn without breaking his stride. "I knew that," he muttered.

Keeping to the shadows, Rimmer snuck down the corridors, keeping his booted footfall as light as possible. Reaching a sharp corner, he slowed and inched his head around to gaze down the corridor before snapping back quickly and pressing himself back against the oily, metal wall. A lone, armed simulant was ambling up and down the new stretch of corridor, his joints buzzing quietly as he walked.

All of his newfound confidence seems to sink into a puddle in his boots, whilst the familiar sense of fear rose and ensnared him mercilessly by the family jewels. He began to shake uncontrollably.

"Oh smeg," he whimpered soundlessly.

"_He's blocking the way, Ace. You've got no choice but to engage him. You better arm yourself._"

Rimmer mopped his face with the flat of his palm and sighed. He had a horrible feeling she wasn't inferring that he should get down on one knee and produce a ring. His dark eyes flitted silently around the corridor, hoping that someone had conveniently mislaid a bazookoid with a 'Kill, Stuff and Mount' setting, but unfortunately this was not the case. He rolled his eyes. Bloody typical.

"_You'll have to be inventive. See that old metal pipe on the wall in front of you? That could deliver a nasty whack_."

Rimmer's gaze lifted to the wall opposite him where indeed, a rusting length of leaking pipe snaked across the metal surface. It looked old enough that with a good hard yank, it would probably break free.

He crept over to the far wall and wrapped his hands around the pipe. Steadying his legs apart, his nostrils flaring, he wrenched with all his might. One side of the pipe was ripped free with a teeth-gritting squeal, like fingernails down a chalkboard. But the other side remained stubbornly fixed to the wall by its ancient housing.

Rimmer's head whipped back towards the unseen stretch of corridor, aghast. He hoped against hope that the simulant had the aural capability of a 98-year old woman at a rock festival. No such luck. He jumped visibly at the sound of a loading gun, his breathing growing more desperate and shallow as the metal-booted footfall echoed closer and closer.

"_What are you waiting for? Christmas? Get it loose! Now!_"

Rimmer wrenched desperately at the pipe, watching the fearful silhouette arch up the wall beside him. Horrific images of his torture flashed uncontrollably across his mind's eye, his ears echoing with the sound of his own cries. He braced his right boot against the wall, took the strain and pulled hard. There wasn't a chance in hell he was going back to that room willingly.

The simulant appeared at the corner of the corridor and blinked twice at the strange sight, his gun dropping for a brief moment.

"What the - ?"

CLANG!

The pipe had finally wrenched free at the crucial moment and losing his balance, Rimmer had swung round helplessly. The metal pipe still clutched in his hands continued its momentum and hit the simulant square on the jaw at the peak of its arc. Richocheting off the corner of the metal wall, the simulant crumpled to the floor with a groan.

Rimmer stood over the inanimate simulant, one hand covering his gaping mouth, the other still loosely holding onto the metal pipe.

There was a few seconds before the computer spoke. "_If there was ever a Lucky Bastard Perfect Timing Award, I think you'd be a sure thing_."

Rimmer scowled as he dropped to his haunches beside the simulant, dropping the metal pipe on the ground with a clang before re-arming himself with a far more dangerous looking gun.

"Are you saying that was a fluke?" he replied incredulously, as he unclasped the clip with quivering hands. Seven shots remaining.

"_Ace, a recital of Hamlet by a class of nursery school kids would be more convincing than you were just then_," the computer smirked.

A warning alarm blasted into life over the loudspeakers, sparking the red glow of the emergency lights into flickering life. Rimmer stood quickly, both hands still grasping the gun in case he lost his grip.

"Oh dear. Flashing red lights are never good news, are they?" he asked glumly.

"_I think the simulants have worked out that you've gone missing_," the computer replied.

A strange, chugging whir signalled the approach of a robotic security camera that swooped unsteadily down the corridor towards him. Its flight programme ceased a couple of metres before him and hovered parallel to his eye-level. Rimmer watched transfixed as the camera telescoped in and out as it focused on him, noticing his bemused reflection in the glass lens. The aperture closed in over the lens as if narrowing in suspicion before casting out a red neon line of light that dropped up and down every contour of his face and body. A tinny voice buzzed monotonously from its speakers.

"_Identity confirmed. Ace Rimmer located on_ _Level 37, corridor 159_."

"Oh bugger."

"_Ace! Are you going to take it out or just stand there until it scans you enough to establish your National Insurance number?_"

Fumbling with the gun in his hands, he quickly took aim, closed his eyes and squeezed the trigger. The security robot exploded into a thousand pieces on impact, sending shards of metal, wires and circuitry spilling over the deck.

"_I meant take it out using the metal pipe, not one of your rounds!_" the computer sighed despairingly.

Rimmer bit the tip of his thumb. "Sorry," he mumbled. He glanced behind him as the sound of heavy footfall echoed up the corridor from where he'd come.

The computer's programming analysis clicked and whirred as she hacked into the ship's security system. "_Well unless you're confident about taking out eight simulants with six bullets, I strongly suggest you run_."

What Rimmer lacked in weaponary know-how, he more than made up for in speed. His formulative childhood years spent running away from all sorts of tortures and threats from his older brothers, plus his adult years spent on a variety of strange and wild worlds escaping from all kinds of beasties and creatures, had refined his Leg It Mode to an art.

So Arnold Rimmer did what he did best. He ran.


	5. Cornered

The cold air stung Rimmer's sweating forehead, the long blonde bangs of his wig whipping back from his face as he ran. His boots pounded on the metal grating of the corridors, arms pumping rhythmically as his right hand gripped his salvaged gun as if his life depended on it. It was always surprising how fast you could run when pursued by murderous, deranged, cybernetic killing machines.

A shot fired from somewhere behind him. Missing his head by mere inches, the shot hit the metal wall beside him, exploding into a shower of sparks that rained down on his helpless frame. He staggered in surprise, his hands instinctively thrust above his head.

It seemed that aforementioned murderous, deranged, cybernetic killing machines were gaining on him.

Not daring to look back, he pressed on with renewed energy, racing desperately down the never-ending maze of corridors that zig-zagged towards the ship's stern.

"_Ace, I've managed to hack into the security systems and have located the programming for the door controls_," the computer explained evenly. "_I'll wait until you get through that set of doors ahead and I'll close it off. Hopefully it'll buy you a few minutes – enough time for you to reach Wildfire_."

Rimmer shook his head as he ran. "God, I hope you're right," he whimpered breathlessly.

The hologram rounded another corner and immediately spotted the next set of security doors; the panel of switches on the wall beside it flickering red and white in anticipation of him to pass. Conjuring an extra burst of speed from his weary legs, he sprinted through the doorway, immediately hearing the reassuring beeping of the computer's override programme kick in and the heavy metal doors begin to slide close.

He felt but didn't hear the next shot being fired. His left shoulder exploded in a blast of pain and he immediately collapsed to the floor in shock, the gun dropping from his hand and skidding away across the floor. An involuntary cry of agony dragged across his vocal chords. Grasping his shoulder instinctively, he drew himself up to his haunches and risked a glance behind him.

A lone simulant thumped the thick, re-enforced glass of the security door angrily as the others drew up behind him, the light catching and flashing over the exposed metal of his skull. He'd obviously squeezed off a quick fluke shot through the closing doors in the vague hope that he'd hit him, and now looked incredibly frustrated that he couldn't finish the job. Rimmer watched as the lead simulant silently barked orders, gesturing wildly at the others to override the door's lockdown.

Rimmer hissed through gritted teeth as he glanced down at his shoulder for the first time. His entire arm seemed to be going into spasm, flashing in and out of focus like a frightened angel fish, as his light bee fought to restore normal transmission.

The lead simulant paced back and forth against the glass like a caged lion, refusing to break his stare with the injured hologram. Rimmer could almost see the cogs turning behind his cold, grey eyes, most likely conjuring an array of torturous plans to execute once he'd managed to break through the door. Amidst the distressed static of his ailing light bee that resonated in his ears, an urgent, disembodied voice fought to be heard.

"_Ace, get moving quick! You don't have much time!_"

Rimmer needed no further encouragement. Tearing his gaze away from the murderous scowl of the simulant, he hauled himself to his feet and scooped up the gun from the floor beside him. Clamping his armed hand against his pulsing shoulder, he ran as fast as he could down the corridor towards the next set of doors.

Skidding to an abrupt halt as he raced through the doorway, his chest began to heave visibly; not for lack of oxygen that he didn't require, but wheezing in a desperate and panicked sob. The doorway had led him onto a small metal gantry suspended over a dark, deep expanse. Stacks of wooden crates flanked him to his left and right.

It was a dead end.

His head whipped back to the last doorway further down the corridor as he panted with fear. The simulants were still working on disabling the override for the doors. He didn't have long.

"Computer," he gasped desperately, "help me. Where do I go?" He winced through gritted teeth as a fresh burst of pain lanced through his shoulder, sending his arm buzzing in and out of sight once more. "Argh, my arm! Computer, help! What do I do?"

"_Ace, keep calm, don't panic_."

"Don't panic?!" he yelled nasally, all traces of the 'Ace' voice gone. "I've been cornered by an army of armour-plated killing machines with a penchant for electronic torture, and my light bee doesn't seem to want to bother projecting my arm anymore! I've got every reason to bloody panic!"

"_Ace, I'm trying to concentrate_," she scolded as her CPU beeped and clicked. "_There. I've enhanced the repair signal on your projection. Now let your light bee look after your arm and I'll look after finding a way out_."

Rimmer blinked aghast as the computer's voice in his mind fell silent once more. He felt like he'd just dialled 999, telling the operator in a frenzied panic that he was about to be murdered by a crazed group of cybernetic killing machines, and they'd put him hold, forcing him to listen to the strained, warbled instrumental rendition of _Bye Bye Baby_.

Within a few moments, his hand shot to his chest in shock. He could sense the light bee hovering inside him buzz into overdrive, glowing red hot. His face contorted in a mixture of discomfort and disbelief as he held his arm aloft, watching as the tachyons knotted together, rebuilding his arm in an eerie glow of pulsing light. He wiggled his fingers experimentally before turning his palm up to face him.

"Smegging hell," he whispered to his hand.

"_Right, I've managed to locate the ship's electronic mapping programme and there's two ways to get to the landing bay. Option one, the long way around: you turn back, confront eight simulants with only six bullets, climb back into the air ducts and navigate your way down 27 floors to the landing bay_."

Rimmer's nose wrinkled involuntarily. That didn't sound overly pleasant or safe. "What's option two?"

"_Option two is the short cut. According to the ship's mapping programme, we are almost directly above the landing bay_."

Rimmer inched his way over to the edge of the gantry, latched onto the safety rail in a clamp-like grip and peered reluctantly over the edge. He immediately wished he hadn't. The wind howled cold on his face, smoke from the engines far below curling up weakly into the air before him.

He staggered back with a strangled yelp, unable to wrench his gaze away from the deep, dark drop. With a clearing of the throat he straightened, flicking his hair rather unconvincingly.

"W-what was the first option again?"

A volley of gunfire erupted around him and Rimmer quickly ducked for cover, pressing back up to the wall beside the door. The simulants had managed to unlock the computer's override code.

"_Computer lock down this smegging door, quick!_" he hollered above the noise.

"_They've locked me out of the programme, Ace. I can't access it._"

Rimmer growled audibly. This Ace business was really beginning to piss him off royally. He vented his frustrations through a frenzied volley of gunfire of his own, inching the gun around the edge of the doorframe and firing blindly.

"_You're a scarily good shot when you're angry,_" the computer mused. "_You've managed to take out four of them without looking_."

In fact, all of the Aces she'd trained seemed to operate best in their early days when they were under fire and raging with fury. But then again, if anger and frustration was your forte, you were bound to be able to use it to your advantage. Part of the 'Ace' training was teaching each new Arnold Rimmer to slow down and chill the smeg out. The newbies were always so tense and wound up. The pent-up sexual frustration probably didn't help matters; each Arnold Rimmer seemed to have had as active a sex life as a lettuce.

The gun sounded a series of hollow clicks as Rimmer's nervous and angry trigger finger continued to twitch. Realisation dawned on his features as he slowly pulled back the gun towards him.

He was out of bullets.

A small, black disc skidded into the gantry like a hockey puck and settled a few metres away from him. It immediately began beeping steadily in a tone that hammered into his skull, a red light on its smooth plastic housing flashing in coupled rhythm. Rimmer's eyes widened. An explosive device.

And now he was out of options.

"_Ace, jump! Now!_" the computer shrieked in his ear.

The beeping and flashing on the explosive grew more rapid and urgent. Rimmer's nails scraped against the metal wall as his fingers curled inwards into tight, balled fists.

"_The whole gantry is going to go! Jump! Now!_"

His knuckles turned white as he screwed his eyes closed. The beeping reached a swifter, higher octave.

"_Ace, you're going to get yourself killed! Jump!_"

Rimmer took a deep breath that he didn't need. God, he was going to regret this.

Pushing himself off the wall, he sprinted towards the edge of the gantry, hauled himself onto the railings and jumped. The force of the explosion blasted him away from the gantry as his arms and legs windmilled instinctively, and he cried out at the fierce, intensity of the resulting fireball that scorched his back. For a split second he felt a flash of deja vu of the moment he'd died, how he'd been consumed by the full blast of Cadmium II radiation. His scream disappeared into a distant echo as he fell into the dark depths.

He'd never remembered dying before.


	6. New Beginnings

Darkness. Static.

"_Can you hear me?_"

Darkness. Static. _Pain_.

He groaned weakly. _What the hell had just happened?_

"_Ace, can you hear me_?"

His eyebrows fought to pull his heavy eyelids slowly open to try and make out the source of the unfamiliar voice. It was muffled, fighting to be heard above the crackling static that buzzed in his ears. His blurry vision fought to focus on the object before him that flashed and flickered in and out of focus. He blinked slowly. It was his arm.

His eyes drooped closed again to the warm, soothing darkness; another painful groan rumbling from his chest and resonating into the metal floor beneath him. _Now _he remembered what had happened.

"_Ace, _please_, help me here. I need you to get into Wildfire for me so we can make our escape_."

"Sure," he mumbled weakly, eyes still closed. "I'll just somersault across. I'll be with you in half a mo."

A relieved sigh rippled through the computer's programming. If he was shooting her sarcasm, he was going to be fine. "_I've upped the repair signal for your light bee to maximum,_" she added happily_. _"_It should be enough to get you on your feet, but I'll need to hook you up to Wildfire's systems to get you functioning normally again_."

With a spluttered moan, Rimmer rolled onto his back and opened his eyes to the dark, foreboding towers that stretched up above him into black infinity.

"How far did I fall?" he wheezed.

The computer's CPU gave a series of beeps. "_According to best calculations, I would say roughly 425.78 feet._"

Rimmer cocked an eyebow and snorted. "Roughly?" he mocked.

"_I must admit, I was slightly concerned that your light bee wouldn't take the damage,_" she added with the soothing, unfazed tone of an air hostess whose plane was hurtling towards the ground at 100,000 miles an hour. "_I don't have any success rates recorded beyond 375.62 feet._"

With a great deal of difficulty, Rimmer hauled himself unsteadily to his feet, his long gangly legs staggering for balance like a new-born foul as they buzzed in and out of focus. He wobbled slightly before regaining equilibrium.

"Thank you for having the good grace to _not _tell me that before I followed your instruction to throw myself off the gantry," he chided.

"_Helpful to know for the future though. Wouldn't you say Ace?_" she probed gently.

Rimmere marvelled at the buffed red paint of _Wildfire_ sparkling in the flashing guidance lights of the landing bay. A small, almost imperceptible smile began to tug at the corner of his mouth.

"Definitely."

Once she'd guided the ship out of the _SS Orion's _landing bay and out into deep space, the computer talked Rimmer through the process of linking his light bee up to _Wildfire's _mainframe to perform the electronic repairs; an act that he would be repeating many times in his years to come.

"_So,_" the computer began brightly. "_Ready for another adventure?_"

Rimmer threw the dashboard a barely concealed look of contempt, his image still crackling and distorting.

"Are you serious?" he asked, incredulous.

The dashboard shimmered with white lights as the computer chuckled to herself. It was far too easy winding up the newbies.

Rimmer's head sank back into the cool leather of the pilot seat, an exhausted sigh heaving from his aching chest. "God, I think I need a stiff drink after that."

The computer smiled to herself as she regarded her new recruit through her cameras. His wings may be a bit battered and bruised around the edges, but he was going to make a damn good butterfly. She programmed in the jump to Dimension 357, the home of Galactic Bazaar.

"_I know a great little place I think you're going to like.._."

***********

M'Aiden Ty-One thumped the scanner with his fist angrily, sending a deep, ugly crack through the glass.

"Dammit, Pizzak," he growled, turning on his fellow simulant. "He's managed to get away!"

Pizzak looked unpeturbed. Instead, his face split into a gleaming, metal grin, as he waved his hand in dismissal.

"Ace Rimmer can go to hell in a rowing boat for all I care," he replied evenly.

Pizzak swept back his dark, heavy cloak and stepped across to the ship's mainframe, calling up the data files he'd captured. M'Aiden stood behind him, his grey eyes flitting over the reams of information that encircled the images that flashed up on screen. Diagrams, formulas, and calculations copied from _Wildfire's_ dimension jump drive.

Pizzak turned back to M'Aiden, who now sported a matching, ugly grin of his own.

"I think we've got all we need from him to locate the Jadestone, don't you?"

_* The End (or should that be: The Beginning?) *_

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**So there we have it, ladies and gents, Rimmer's first ever adventure as Ace. Hope you've enjoyed it, especially the lovely Psychobikerjunkiewhore who asked me to write this fic in the first place!**

**This now forms part of my new arc of fics continuing the same mini canon, linking chapter five of 'Hidden Depths', 'Only the One', and the pre-Back to Earth fic I'm currently working on due to popular demand - 'Rimmer's Return'**.

**Reviews would be most appreciated. Thank you!  
**


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